One Of Our Own
by speartherear
Summary: Roger calls Jack in the middle of the night.


Jack woke in the middle of the night, confused and very tired. His phone was ringing, he looked at the screen and saw a photo of Roger and himself lighting the screen. "Hey, Rog? What's up?" He didn't know what he expected but it certainly wasn't the muffled cry he heard. The redhead sat up and turned on the light by his bed. "Roger?"

"Jack. I-I'm sorry, I didn't know who else to call." He stuttered, his voice shaking. He stood in the pouring rain in the middle of a dimly lit, empty street, with nothing but a backpack in one hand and his phone in the other.

"No, that's quite alright. It's 2am what's wrong?" He spoke softly, knowing that Roger wouldn't call without good reason.

"Uh, well, Dad found out about us, well about me, and he uh, threw me out." He ran a hand through soaked hair, his hoodie hadn't lasted long against the cold, British weather. "Just threw some clothes into a bag, woke me up and dragged me outside."

"Oh, Roger!" Jack threw his covers off of him and looked around his bedroom for clothes. The commotion of the redhead tripping over the cat woke his mother, who padded quietly outside his room and knocked on his door.

"Jack?" Both Roger and Claire, Jack's mother, spoke at the same time.

"I tripped over Vita, I'm fine." He replied.

"Can I come in daring?" The small woman asked, knocking the door.

"Uh, yeah." He'd managed to find some jeans and pulled them on. "Roger's on the phone. Is it okay if I tell Mum?" The sniffling boy croaked out a quiet: "Yes." And walked under a street lamp, hoping the soft glow would give some comfort. He stayed silent

Claire opened the door and stepped in, her long red curls, tied into a messy bun and her nightgown too long for her petite frame. "Honey, what's wrong, is Roger okay?"

Jack shook his head and his mother frowned and sat beside her son on the floor, lifting the tabby cat onto her lap, the old dear still slept, purring happily. "His dad threw him out." Claire gasped and got closer to the phone. Jack put it on loudspeaker and said to his boyfriend. "Rog, you're on speaker, Mum's here."

"Darling, are you safe? Are you outside? Where are you?" She spoke quickly, though softly, a kind lady, she'd always been loving toward Roger, accepting him as one of her own. She'd even refused to be called Mrs Merridew, or Claire, telling him to call her Mum, just as her son did. Roger accepted it gratefully, seeing as he'd lost his mother at a young age. She'd simply just said 'Aww.' When Jack told her that he and Roger were together and took it in her stride.

"Mum, I'm fine. I am outside, I'm in the little street with all of the small shops in it."

"The dark one?"

"Yeah."

"Right okay, sweetie, we're going to come and pick you up, and you're gonna stay here. No buts."

Roger felt a new wave of tears falling down his cheeks, ones of acceptance and happiness. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"It's not a problem, give us a few minutes to get dressed and we'll be on our way." She kissed Jack on the cheek and rushed into the room she shared with her husband, finding clothes.

"See, everything's fine." Jack smiled, pulling on a t-shirt and hoodie, getting a spare on for Roger and holding it in his arms. He sat the phone on the bed, yanking shoes on his feet. "We'll be there soon."

"Uh huh." Roger's inky black hair stuck to his head and his eyelashes stuck together.

"You ready Jackie?"

"Yeah."

When Claire and Jack found Roger, he was curled up, shivering and soaked to the skin, on a bench under a street light. They helped the boy to the car and Jack peeled the raven's hoodie off of him. _That bastard never even let him put on a shirt. _He gasped as he touched Roger's skin, it was ice cold and completely numb. He put on the spare hoodie and then his own onto his loved one's frame, holding him closely to warm him up.

"We'll get you in a nice, warm bath when we go home, sweetie." He muttered, kissing the raven hair atop Roger's head.

"Thank you." He whispered to Claire and Jack.

"I've turned on the heating for you, darling." Claire had since abandoned her nightgown, throwing on a simple pair of tracksuit bottoms she'd stolen from Nicholas (her husband) and a large hoodie she'd picked up from Jack's room.

"Mum? Is everything you're wearing mine and Dad's?" Jack chuckled.

"Yes." She giggled, leading Roger and Jack to laugh with her. "I wasn't wearing a flimsy suit, honey, your clothes are comfy."

"They are." Agreed the raven, kissing the tall boy.

"See, even Rog agrees."

The group pulled up outside the house and entered, at the moment it seemed Nicholas had been informed and was making a rather angry phonecall to Roger's father.

"You are an asshole, James Winton-Smyth. Don't you _dare _call your son such profanities." His voice was firm, but not raised. A practiced speech writer, he knew how to use words to his advantage. "He's not your son anymore? You know what, I'm sure Claire and I completely agree on the fact that no, he is no longer your son, he's one of our own now." He was silent for a few seconds when he saw Roger, Jack was carrying him as he'd nearly collapsed coming out of the car. "James. You should see him right now. I don't care! So what if he's with Jack! It doesn't make him any less of a person!" His voice grew a little in volume. "Jack's a little sick bastard.? Hmm who threw their son out I wonder?! My wife is a whore? No my wife, who has a _name _by the way, it's Claire, is a kind lady, who was nice enough to wake up at 2am to pick Roger up from the pissing rain! Goodbye!" He slammed the phone down, his piercing blue eyes burning it in disgust. He sighed and shook his head. He walked over to the group and kissed his wife's flame coloured curls hair, then moving to Jack, then to Roger. "How are you son?"

"Cold." Roger chuckled.

"I can imagine."

After a warm bath and a cup of tea with the Merridews, Jack and Roger settled down underneath the duvet. Jack and Nicholas had hung Roger's clothes on the radiator, they were all wet.

"You nice and warm?"

"Yeah, you know your clothes really are comfy." Roger curled up closer to the redhead.  
"Are they now?" Jack chuckled, kissing the tip of his companion's nose.

"Mhmm." He smiled. "Goodnight, Jackie."

"Goodnight, my dear. Sleep well Rog."

And they did, cuddling one another, just as they deserved.


End file.
